


Impressed

by Flightless_Bird



Category: Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types, Hannibal Lecter Tetralogy - Thomas Harris
Genre: AU, Falling In Love, Flirting, Fluff, Getting Together, Hannibal is Not a Cannibal, I’m not kidding, Kissing, Language, Love Confessions, M/M, Mentions of Sex, Needy Will, Pining, Pre-Red Dragon, Sappy Hannibal, Self-indulgent shit right here, Song Lyrics, Song fic, but can be read as though he is?, lol, not-criminal-Hannibal au, really self-indulgent, they are in love, uhhhhh, will has a thing for being manhandled
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-23
Updated: 2019-01-23
Packaged: 2019-10-14 21:02:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17515850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flightless_Bird/pseuds/Flightless_Bird
Summary: In which Hannibal and Will are dubious at first, but then both impressed and afraid of just what they are capable of making each other feel.





	Impressed

**Author's Note:**

> I apologize in advance: this gal wrote this after reading the BOOKS and seeing the movies. So, this can be read as an au to the tv series, but my descriptions of these two are based off of my interpretations of the book series. You can just skip over them if you’d like haha.  
> Also this is so self-indulgent, even as I’m writing this summmary, I’m considering not posting it lol   
> I hope you like it anyway, haha  
> Inspiration and lyrics from the song, Fresh, by Artist vs. Poet. :3

 

 

_Lying eyes and flashing lights_ ,

I _think I’ve been here before_

_And you caught me by surprise_.

_I’m set on taking you home._

——————-

 

The first time Will met Hannibal Lecter, it was in a crowded lecture hall. The rustle of paper and shifting in seats crowded the air, along with the smoothness of Lecter’s voice. Will had been waiting with Jack Crawford to speak to the psychiatrist about a case they were getting stuck on. Will slanted his eyes over Lecter’s perfect suit and sniffed dismissively to himself. One of those high and mighty types, he thought. Too high to want to stoop to the common people’s level.

Will had dealt with many in that type and he wasn’t keen on working with another on a case.

“Dr. Lecter,” Crawford said with a courteous nod. “Thank you for agreeing to talk, we’re really pressed for time. This is Agent Will Graham.”

“I’ve heard of him.” Lecter’s smile was slight, but politely warm.

Will raised his eyebrows. “You have?”

“Of course. You’ve done some excellent work for the FBI as I understand it.”

Oh. Sensing no lies from the doctor, Will felt a tiny sting of guilt for judging Lecter so soon. “Thank you.”

“He’s our best,” Crawford added with a proud, _look at my protege_ kind of smile.

Lecter barely glanced at him. “I have no doubt of that.”

Will thought that he had to have imagined the flirtatious tilt that came to the words.

In the weeks to come, he learned more of the doctor than he’d thought he would, even breaking through that inhuman barrier a few occasions. He didn’t know why he’d ever thought Hannibal was someone to be avoided.

And, well, to put it bluntly, he was beautiful. Will observed people, couldn’t help but observe, and he had observed Hannibal _many_ times. Deep eyes, dark eyes, colored like red wine. He combed back his hair, but it had a rebellious wave to it, and two strands always snuck down into his eyes. It was that sooty color people always mistook for black. He had a chef’s hands, elegant, precise fingers, one hand with six instead of five. An oddity, almost working to make him seem more inhuman, along with his intelligence and the hint of sociopathic traits in him.

But Will knew he didn’t see Hannibal the way other people did. When they were together, especially alone, there was a vulnerability that opened itself up to him. Easier smiles, laughter. It was exhilarating.

It was terrifying.

 

 

**XxxxxxxxX**

 

_Girl, I’m impressed, I want it bad_

_And it’s true, that I’m the best you never had_

——————

 

And in turn, Hannibal learned about Will.

The first notable incident of his observances occurred while they were waiting just outside a crime scene. Past the tape and blue-and-red lights, on the pavement among police. Crawford was speaking with an officer by the house’s front porch, trying to gain access to the inside. Well acquainted with the police department through his work with the FBI, Hannibal knew it was going to be a little while before he was able to get anywhere with this one. So the doctor resigned himself to his fate with hands clasped behind his back. It was steadily misting outside, adding weight to his slick hair, but he didn’t mind.

He could sense like an itch, however, that it was bothering Will.

The agent stood next to him, hands shoved into his jacket pockets and brows drawn low. His hair was plastered into wet spikes and he’d never looked so…grouchy. Hannibal smiled slightly at his own choice of wording and moved a step closer to Will. “You seem to be having a difficult time with our acquaintances in the police department, Agent Graham,” he commented.

Will grunted. “Them and this damn weather.”

“Yes, that has been a concern of mine as well,” Hannibal admitted, with a look toward the gloomy sky.

“By the time they’ve moved their asses over, some of the evidence is going to be soaked through or washed away,” Will complained.

“We could try forging ahead on our own.”

Will cast him a withering glance. “You really wanna piss off Crawford like that?”

“He’s not my boss, Agent Graham, he’s yours.”

“Smartass.” Will sniffed. “And it’s Will.”

Jarred by this lapse of normality, Hannibal blinked. “I’m sorry?”

“You’re always so formal, you know? We’ve been working together for months now.” The side of Will’s mouth turned up, the first break in his sulking. “You can call me by my first name. I’m not gonna go off on you.”

Hannibal wasn’t sure why that knowledge being spoken aloud caused such a skitter in his heartbeat, especially with the look tossed to him from those blue eyes. Instead of lingering on it, he simply answered, “if you insist, Will.”

The incident was first of many to come, and Dr. Lecter couldn’t help but think of them in his time alone in his mind palace. It had begun as a venture into a strange curiosity about himself, but was now growing into a small library devoted to information on Will.

Will was….a curious person to study. But studying someone was what Hannibal did best, and so he did. Gladly.

Special Agent Will Graham was simultaneously antisocial and capable of deep understanding of other people’s emotions. His level of empathy was one that Hannibal admired and was sympathetic toward. He read people perhaps as well as Hannibal did. He was closed-off, a little irritable, and unapologetically sarcastic.

But Hannibal had glimpsed Will at his most open when they worked alone some nights and it was spectacular.

He was well aware of the implications of his affection. But he couldn't find a way to stop it.

It didn't help that Will himself was as handsome as his mind.

He was shorter than Hannibal, but strong, shoulders tapering slightly down to his waist. Hair shorter in the back than the front, and charmingly tousled. It was the color of autumn, dark shades of brown and reds. It gave a startling contrast to his eyes—sharp ice-blue eyes that burned like electricity when he was analyzing someone or angry.

But there were times, every now and again, when those eyes warmed.

When they lit on Hannibal, he felt them warm him from head to toe.

He’d never felt so afraid.

 

**XxxxxxxxxX**

_You got your hands on me_.

I _didn't tell you to stop_.

_Somewhere they shouldn’t be_

I _didn't tell you to stop_.

————————

 

They were heading down the hallway toward Lecter’s lecture hall when Will tripped. It shouldn’t have been such a momentous occasion. There was a raised bit of carpet there that Will stumbled over every day and Hannibal often pointed it out teasingly. This particular moment would’ve been like any other, if it weren’t for Hannibal’s reaction.

This time, Will’s foot twisted, and he sensed at once that he was going to go down hard. A gasping noise left him, small and so…so helplessly _Will_ , that Hannibal moved fast: he caught Will and steadied him with a hand on his chest and another at the small of his back.

They stood like that for a moment, Will controlling his breathing and Hannibal wondering why this felt so different.

“Are you all right, Will?” he asked, partly just to diffuse the strange tension.

“Yeah, I'm okay,” Will breathed. “Thanks.”

“Of course.”

Licking his lips nervously, Will looked up at Hannibal. Hannibal realized that he could feel Will tilting into the hand on his back and beneath Hannibal’s palm on his chest, Will’s heartbeat was speeding up. He quickly pulled his hands away. “My apologies.”

“No, it's—” Will’s gaze tracked Hannibal’s movement away from him. “It's fine.” His expression shuttered over once more, and they continued down the hallway together.

But Hannibal couldn't banish the longing the he'd glimpsed in Will’s face and it haunted him.

 

**XxxxxxxxxxxX**

 

 

_Have you ever been around another man like me?_  

_Gets down like me? And sounds like me?_  

_Have you ever met a motherfucker fresh like me?_  

_Got you on your knees, with your ripped jeans?_

_Are you ready for it?_

_Are you ready for it?_

————————

 

 

Hannibal had seen Will Graham in his private library numerous times throughout their work together, but something about today….

Hannibal had walked in, carrying some photos from the case, and any words he'd had had died on his tongue.

“Hey, Dr. Lecter,” Will greeted, turning toward him away from the window. “What do you think about this?” He was backlit by the sunlight behind him, still wearing his holster snug across his back and and shoulders. The lighting shadowed him, save for a bright outline and the stop clouds of his eyes.

Hannibal’s mouth felt dry. “Uh—let me take a look.” Clearing his throat, he joined Will by the window.

“I was looking at the marks you'd pointed out and…” Will's explanation was lost as Hannibal struggled to share this space with him. Just to be close to such a mind, a person, like this, it enthralled and intoxicated him. Someone like an equal.

An equal who longed for him in the same way.

“…what do you think?” Will finished and looked up at Hannibal with those electric eyes.

Goddamn, Hannibal _wanted_ him.

“I think,” he said, quieter than a whisper, “you’re brilliant.”

Will blinked, opening his mouth, then closing it. Coughing into his hand, he shifted on his feet. Bashful. Delighted. “Um. Not _quite_ what I meant.”

God, what was Hannibal doing? He straightened his tie, feeling foolish. “I apologize. I'm afraid I don't know why I thought to say such a thing in the middle of—”

“Because you're in love with me.”

Hannibal choked on his own words. He looked at Will with wide eyes and Will suddenly blushed, becoming uncertain. “I mean— if I've analyzed you correctly, that is. Not that I'm always analyzing you, that—that would be…weird,” he stammered out lamely. “Never mind, forget I said that.”

“You're afraid,” Hannibal observed, in the voice of someone drifting in high water. “You don’t care about overanalyzing me. You're afraid that you're projecting something onto me that isn't there.” Nearly breathless with the implications, he added, “projecting…your own feelings toward me.” It wasn't meant to be a question, but it turned up at the end like one.

Will said nothing, but kept his gaze fixed on the book he held. His face was strained, as though he felt some hidden pain. Swallowing, he nodded minutely.

It was the first giant leap forward and Hannibal’s hands shook. “You've fallen in love with me,” he said hoarsely, needing to confirm it.

Shutting his eyes, pained, Will nodded again. “I'm sorr—”

Hannibal reached up and pressed his fingers to the place beneath Will’s jaw.

Freezing, Will met his eyes. He didn't move or protest. Actually, he lifted his chin a bit and refused to look away, even with Hannibal touching him, taking his pulse. It thundered.

To have someone hand themselves over so simply, it floored Hannibal. He took an unsteady breath. “You have no need for apologies,” he murmured. “You are so extraordinary, Will, I'm often taken aback by your feelings toward me. And my feelings toward you.”

Will shivered. “Kiss me,” he pleaded abruptly.

Hannibal raised his eyebrows, and Will’s flush spread to his ears. “I mean—”

“I’m not offended,” Hannibal cut him off before he could say it. “It just makes me wonder…” He touched his thumb to the corner of Will’s mouth, and Will sucked in a breath. “…how often you've thought of this.”

“I’m sure you’ve deduced that I’ve thought of it so much, it hurts,” Will answered, open and raw, and just a hint playful.

Now the desperation shifted from Will to Hannibal. Instead of speaking, he tilted his head in slowly and touched his lips to Will’s.

It was gentle, simultaneously inadequate and overwhelming. Will’s mouth was soft, lips parted just enough for them to share breath. Hannibal slid his hand onto the back of Will’s neck, feeling affectionate and fiercely protective all at once. Will never pushed for more, but Hannibal could feel him trembling with the weight of the moment and his want. Finally, he pulled back, watching Will carefully. Will’s eyes were hazy blue, at half-mast, and he wet his lips as they parted. He was looking at Hannibal’s tie.

A crease started between Hannibal’s brows. “What’re you thinking?”

Will exhaled. “Honestly? I’m thinking about pulling your tie loose.”

“Ah, more innocent than I’d thought.”

“Well, I’m specifically thinking about doing it while you have me in your bed,” Will teased, but with a note beneath, a question.

Hannibal answered.

Sweeping forward, he pressed his mouth to Will’s again with the force of months’ worth of foolish pining. The trapped want in Will broke and he dropped the book. He kissed Hannibal recklessly, messily, taking Hannibal's jaw in his hands. It was the first time he had dared to touch Hannibal possessively and something about their skin together made Hannibal light up. Will’s tongue grazed his and Hannibal snapped a little.

Growling, he gripped Will by the shoulder holster and yanked him in close, hauling him around so that his back was to the window. Will’s gasp was heated, shaking as Hannibal pushed him back against the wide windowsill. “ _Shit_ ,” he breathed against Hannibal’s mouth, almost smirking. “I love it when you manhandle me.”

He smelled so good, gunpowder and aftershave, and he slung a leg around Hannibal’s to pull him in. Hannibal’s thigh pressed between his legs, making Will arch a little, and Hannibal groaned. “If you keep this up,” he warned, “I’m afraid I won’t be able to hold back.”

“Then don’t,” Will gasped, between breathless kisses and wrapping his arms around Hannibal’s neck. “Don’t, because I’ve been holding back for so fucking long.”

Hannibal claimed his mouth again, hooking his hands under Will’s thighs and hefting him up onto the windowsill. He felt out of his mind and out of control. Dragging Will to the edge of the sill, he rolled his hips a little into Will’s. Will moaned, his first exquisite sound, and Hannibal was _drunk_ on it.

Draping his legs around Hannibal’s waist, Will reached behind him to brace himself against the sill and push his hips forward again. Whimpering, Hannibal ripped himself out of the kiss and tried for some space. “Will,” he managed. “I don’t know if you understand exactly what I’m implying. I don’t want t—”

“You couldn’t possibly overstep, Hannibal,” Will replied flatly. He ran his fingers through Hannibal’s hair. “I just told you I imagine myself in your bed.” He lowered his voice shyly. “Do you need any more permission to fuck me?”

The use of that word wasn’t exactly right, but damn if it didn’t make Hannibal dizzy. “Make love,” he corrected with a half-smile. He slid a hand around Will’s waist. “I’d make love to you, Will Graham.”

Will let out a weak noise, and pressed a hot, fleeting kiss to Hannibal’s mouth. “I think I love you,” he rasped. “I’m sorry if that’s too much right now—shit—but for months, I’ve worked with you, and the way you think, the way you _respond_ to me…no one’s ever done that.” He bit his lip.

Hannibal smiled gently and rubbed circles into Will’s back. “And how much they miss out on,” he murmured. “Remarkable boy, it is my honor to know that you feel enough for me to call it love.” He continued his reverent hands up Will’s back and Will sighed. Hannibal’s heart ached.

Something must have been written on his face because Will murmured, “say it?”

And Hannibal smiled. _Yes,_  he thought, _yes I think I’m ready._ “I love you, too.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
